I got a review from one of the five Seamus lovers.
!?!
Yeah, whatever.
Anyway, the review count is... 31 until 200! Yeah, still far off... but last time I said that, I got, like, 10 more reviews than I needed to get to 100, so maybe that'll work this time.
Or not...
Or maybe it will!
Or maybe it won't...
Or maybe I'll stop babbling and start the story!
Or not...
Ha, I'm so evil.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA*HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA**!
*(Remember that star thingy, or asterisk? It means a note! And two means that there's ANOTHER note! Not that I'm saying you'll need this knowledge anytime soon, now.)
Disclaimer: I do not own you, me, or Harry Potter!
***
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAND... GET READY... FOR THE HOGWARTS QUIDDITCH CUP!!! THIS IS YOUR COMMENTATOR, TERRY BOOT, (because Tyrone is mysteriously absent,) AND I AN READY! ARE YOU READY, QUIDDITCH FANS!?"
"NO!" replied the Fans. "WE ARE NOT QUITE READY YET! CAN WE HAVE AROUND TWO MINUTES!?"
"OKAY!" shouted Terry. "TWO MINUTES!"
***
Two minutes later, the Ravenclaw team streaked out onto the field.
"AND HERE COMES THE AMAZING RAVENCLAW TEAM, WHO GAINED ADMISSION TO THE CUP WITH THEIR SPECTACULAR PERFORMANCE ON FRIDAY..."
"BOOT!" screeched McGonagall. "I gave you this position under the impression that you were unbiased-"
"FOLLOWED BY THE EQUALLY SPECTACULAR GRYFFINDOR TEAM- WHO SCORED A RECORD-HIGH 9,000+ POINTS THE OTHER DAY!"
"That's better!"
"AND THE RAVENCLAWS COME OUT! FOLLOWED BY THE GRYFFINDORS, CONSISTING OF POTTER... AND- OH NO... PLEASE... HA... PLEASE NO... HAHAHA...
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA... HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA..." this, again, went on for some time.
"Oh, GREAT!" said McGonagall. "Now we don't have a commentator! WHO CAN COMMENTATE!?"
"Professor, I think I can!" said a cold, drawling voice.
McGonagall turned around.
"Oh no... not YOU..."
Malfoy sneered. "Is there anyone else?" he asked, while quickly bounding and gagging all of the potential commentators.
"I... guess not." Said McGonagall. "Malfoy..."
"Yes?" asked Malfoy.
"Here." McGonagall handed him the microphone.
"AND YOUR NEW COMMENTATOR, DRACO MALFOY, IS HERE!" shouted Malfoy.
"AND IT SEEMS... Good Lord... IS THAT THE GRYFFINDOR TEAM!?"
"Don't rub it in." thought Harry. He had been forced to use plan B: Reserves. But Gryffindor had no reserves, so they had to go to people who weren't on the Quidditch team.
At seeker, of course, was Harry.
At the chaser positions- Pavarti, Lavender, and... Hermione.
And the beaters were... a second-year, Raymond, and... Tyrone!
And last, the keeper was... Neville.
Malfoy, of course, rubbed it in hard.
"Good! Now those mosquitoes won't bother me!" said Malfoy, casting aside the bottle of Repellent that he had just rubbed into his skin. "Now to tease Gryffindor about their team!"
***
"AND THEY'RE OFF! Potter, of course, with his horrible technique, just missed the snitch fly past him... nice one, Potter..."
Harry scowled at Malfoy. He knew he hadn't missed the snitch, and that Malfoy was just toying with him...
"Harry!" shrieked Hermione. "I think that you just missed the snitch!"
Harry just glared at Hermione.
"And Ravenclaw takes the Quaffle, streaks ahead of the Gryffindors, nearing their goal- where's the keeper!? Oh, Longbottom's nowhere near his goals- where is he? Oh- HAHAHA! He's at THE OTHER TEAM'S GOALS!"
"Get to your goals!" shouted Harry at Neville, gesturing wildly with his hands.
"Huh?" said Neville, confused. But the Quaffle had already gone through the hoop, and Ravenclaw got ten points on the board.
"Ravenclaw scores, not surprisingly..." said Malfoy with a slight sneer. "And... it seems that since the Gryffindor keeper or chasers are nowhere near their correct positions... so, yes, the Ravenclaw chasers come in, take the Quaffle, and score AGAIN! Just pathetic, if you ask me..."
"Malfoy..." said McGonagall with pursed lips, "Could you please try to comment in an unbiased way?"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHA-!"
"OKAY, OKAY!!! Just... er, carry on!"
"Thank you, professor!"
"Yes, yes."
"ANYWAY," said Malfoy, returning to the game, "In the shock of the century, Gryffindor takes the Quaffle..."
Harry abandoned his search for the snitch to watch the play unfold. Lavender took the Quaffle out from behind the goalposts... threw it to Pavarti... not a very bad throw, not bad, actually... but it bounced of Pavarti's head... it ricocheted towards Neville, by the far left post... Neville lurched out to catch it... and he missed... the Quaffle rolled off of his back into the goal...
"D'OH!" screamed Harry, just realizing that Lavender had scored an "Own Goal."
"HA! AND IN THE VERY WORST PLAY PROBABLY IN HISTORY, LAVENDER SCORES AN 'OWN GOAL!' That's just rich!"
"Darn!" said Harry as Lavender, blushing, took the Quaffle out again. This time, she made sure that Pavarti got the Quaffle. Pavarti threw it to Hermione, and Hermione flew down the field, dodging a chaser.
"Nice one!" shouted Harry.
And then Hermione dropped the Quaffle out of nowhere.
Unable to watch any more of this, Harry decided to search for the snitch. He flew over the whole field, his eyes darting around, searching.
The Ravenclaw seeker was also doing the same, and Harry thought that he saw him dive-
Harry dived too, wondering if the snitch was even there-
And that's when the Bludger hit him directly in the stomach.
"OOF!" grunted Harry.
"Sorry!" shouted Tyrone.
"That's okay..." grumbled Harry.
"I was aiming for your head!"
"WHAAT!?" screamed Harry.
"What? I'm not supposed to hit Bludgers to my teammates?"
"NO, AWAY FROM THEM!" screamed Harry.
"Sorry..." said Tyrone, embarrassed.
"Whatever." Said Harry. He looked at the Ravenclaw seeker- he was looking at Harry, staying still in midair. Obviously, he had been feinting.
"Curses!" cursed Harry, heading off in another direction.
And that's when the Bludger hit him directly in the stomach.
"Sorry!" shouted Raymond.
***
"And... with Gryffindor down, what is it? 60-0, with absolutely NONE of those goals earned, we all know who the cup's going to!"
This was met with boos from the crowd.
"Yes..." said Malfoy with a sneer. "And... oh no, what's this... Lavender with the Quaffle, speeding down the pitch, passes to Hermione- what- why didn't they lose the Quaffle yet!?"
Harry turned at this. It was true, Hermione was streaking down the pitch- no one seemed to be able to stop her- in fact; no one seemed to want to stop her-
And then Harry realized what was going on.
"Hermione... NOOOO!" screamed Harry, but Hermione had already heaved the Quaffle- towards her own goal!
"OWN GOAL, AGAIN!" screamed Malfoy. "AND RAVENCLAW GOES UP 70-NIL!"
"TIMEOUT!" screamed Harry. Harry got his team together.
"Sorry, Harry," said Hermione, blushing scarlet, "but we're doing our best!"
"Yeah!" agreed the rest of the team.
"I know... but it's not enough. So..." Harry reached into his pocket. "Plan C!"
Harry brought a bottle of pills out of his pocket.
"Oh no..." said Neville, worried, "Is that..."
"Aspirin? Yes." Harry took one of the aspirin, and then reached into his other pocket.
"Plan D!"
He brought out another bottle of pills.
"Oh, those are just magical enhancers."
"Yes!" said Harry, handing a pill to everyone in turn. "Eat these! And, for the next hour, you will be the best Quidditch players ever!"
"Whoa!" said everyone at once. Even Harry, for some strange reason.
"But Harry... the penalties..." said Hermione.
"Just shut up and take your pills!" responded Harry.
Hermione was obliged to do just so.
***
"And the Gryffindors take out the Quaffle, and- what's this!? Lavender with a blazing pass to Pavarti- to Hermione, back to Pavarti- back to Herm- to Lave- to P- whoa, HERMIONE SCORES!?"
The whole crowd stayed still, not daring to make a sound for a whole second, and then erupted into cheers.
"After that fluke, the Ravenclaws take it- OW, a Bludger sent to chaser- whaa!? Hermione AGAIN, BEHIND THE BACK pass to Pavarti, PAVARTI SCORES!?"
The crowd cheered again.
***
Harry, now extremely proud, began his search for the snitch again, amid huge cheers from another goal just scored. Since he was all advanced, it didn't take long at all. Finding it hiding behind a goal post, he dived.
Chasing it down with ease, he smiled, knowing the game was won.
Harry reached out his hand, gave a "V" sign for victory, and caught
the snitch!
"NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" screamed Malfoy, as the crowd roared. Harry pulled out of his dive, his hand up in the air. They had did it- they had won- he was happier than he had ever been-
"STOP!" screeched Malfoy, who had mounted his broom, and was flying out onto the field.
"Where'd you get your broom?" asked Harry, but Malfoy wasn't listening.
"Madam Hooch, Potter and his team were CHEATING!!!"
The whole crowd gasped.
"How so?" asked Hooch, startled.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN!? HE'S ABOUT FIVE INCHES TALLER, AND HAS BUFF BEYOND BELIEF!"
"Oops..." said Harry sheepishly, looking at his equally buff teammates. "I kinda forgot that side-effect of the pills..."
His team looked at him in disbelief.
"WELL THEN..." screeched Madam Hooch, "RAVENCLAW WINS!!!"
Harry felt his heart fall as the crowd cheered, the Ravenclaw team was hugging each other, the world must surely be over, for him to feel this bad-
Wait a second...
"MADAM HOOCH! THE RAVENCLAWS WERE CHEATING!"
Madam Hooch turned around, startled again, as the whole crowd gasped again.
"Look at them!"
Madam Hooch stared at the Ravenclaw seeker.
"He does look familiar..."
"Maybe... BECAUSE HE'S FAMOUS PROFESSIONAL SEEKER TUSK BENNINGS!?!"
"That's his name? OH, I see!"
"YES! RAVENCLAW REPLACED THEIR WHOLE TEAM WITH PROFESSIONAL QUIDDITCH PLAYERS!"
"What!?" Madam Hooch looked closely at each and every player. They WERE professional players! Funny how no one noticed this before...
"FINE, THEN! SINCE BOTH TEAMS CHEATED... NO ONE WINS!" Madam Hooch seized the Quidditch cup, and then moon-walked off of the pitch.
Both teams looked at each other uncertainly.
"Wow." They all said.
***
Well, a kind of disappointing ending, but funny nonetheless. I guess. But who am I to talk!? You review! It keeps me alive!
** HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!
!?!
Yeah, whatever.
Anyway, the review count is... 31 until 200! Yeah, still far off... but last time I said that, I got, like, 10 more reviews than I needed to get to 100, so maybe that'll work this time.
Or not...
Or maybe it will!
Or maybe it won't...
Or maybe I'll stop babbling and start the story!
Or not...
Ha, I'm so evil.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA*HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA**!
*(Remember that star thingy, or asterisk? It means a note! And two means that there's ANOTHER note! Not that I'm saying you'll need this knowledge anytime soon, now.)
Disclaimer: I do not own you, me, or Harry Potter!
***
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAND... GET READY... FOR THE HOGWARTS QUIDDITCH CUP!!! THIS IS YOUR COMMENTATOR, TERRY BOOT, (because Tyrone is mysteriously absent,) AND I AN READY! ARE YOU READY, QUIDDITCH FANS!?"
"NO!" replied the Fans. "WE ARE NOT QUITE READY YET! CAN WE HAVE AROUND TWO MINUTES!?"
"OKAY!" shouted Terry. "TWO MINUTES!"
***
Two minutes later, the Ravenclaw team streaked out onto the field.
"AND HERE COMES THE AMAZING RAVENCLAW TEAM, WHO GAINED ADMISSION TO THE CUP WITH THEIR SPECTACULAR PERFORMANCE ON FRIDAY..."
"BOOT!" screeched McGonagall. "I gave you this position under the impression that you were unbiased-"
"FOLLOWED BY THE EQUALLY SPECTACULAR GRYFFINDOR TEAM- WHO SCORED A RECORD-HIGH 9,000+ POINTS THE OTHER DAY!"
"That's better!"
"AND THE RAVENCLAWS COME OUT! FOLLOWED BY THE GRYFFINDORS, CONSISTING OF POTTER... AND- OH NO... PLEASE... HA... PLEASE NO... HAHAHA...
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA... HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA..." this, again, went on for some time.
"Oh, GREAT!" said McGonagall. "Now we don't have a commentator! WHO CAN COMMENTATE!?"
"Professor, I think I can!" said a cold, drawling voice.
McGonagall turned around.
"Oh no... not YOU..."
Malfoy sneered. "Is there anyone else?" he asked, while quickly bounding and gagging all of the potential commentators.
"I... guess not." Said McGonagall. "Malfoy..."
"Yes?" asked Malfoy.
"Here." McGonagall handed him the microphone.
"AND YOUR NEW COMMENTATOR, DRACO MALFOY, IS HERE!" shouted Malfoy.
"AND IT SEEMS... Good Lord... IS THAT THE GRYFFINDOR TEAM!?"
"Don't rub it in." thought Harry. He had been forced to use plan B: Reserves. But Gryffindor had no reserves, so they had to go to people who weren't on the Quidditch team.
At seeker, of course, was Harry.
At the chaser positions- Pavarti, Lavender, and... Hermione.
And the beaters were... a second-year, Raymond, and... Tyrone!
And last, the keeper was... Neville.
Malfoy, of course, rubbed it in hard.
"Good! Now those mosquitoes won't bother me!" said Malfoy, casting aside the bottle of Repellent that he had just rubbed into his skin. "Now to tease Gryffindor about their team!"
***
"AND THEY'RE OFF! Potter, of course, with his horrible technique, just missed the snitch fly past him... nice one, Potter..."
Harry scowled at Malfoy. He knew he hadn't missed the snitch, and that Malfoy was just toying with him...
"Harry!" shrieked Hermione. "I think that you just missed the snitch!"
Harry just glared at Hermione.
"And Ravenclaw takes the Quaffle, streaks ahead of the Gryffindors, nearing their goal- where's the keeper!? Oh, Longbottom's nowhere near his goals- where is he? Oh- HAHAHA! He's at THE OTHER TEAM'S GOALS!"
"Get to your goals!" shouted Harry at Neville, gesturing wildly with his hands.
"Huh?" said Neville, confused. But the Quaffle had already gone through the hoop, and Ravenclaw got ten points on the board.
"Ravenclaw scores, not surprisingly..." said Malfoy with a slight sneer. "And... it seems that since the Gryffindor keeper or chasers are nowhere near their correct positions... so, yes, the Ravenclaw chasers come in, take the Quaffle, and score AGAIN! Just pathetic, if you ask me..."
"Malfoy..." said McGonagall with pursed lips, "Could you please try to comment in an unbiased way?"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHA-!"
"OKAY, OKAY!!! Just... er, carry on!"
"Thank you, professor!"
"Yes, yes."
"ANYWAY," said Malfoy, returning to the game, "In the shock of the century, Gryffindor takes the Quaffle..."
Harry abandoned his search for the snitch to watch the play unfold. Lavender took the Quaffle out from behind the goalposts... threw it to Pavarti... not a very bad throw, not bad, actually... but it bounced of Pavarti's head... it ricocheted towards Neville, by the far left post... Neville lurched out to catch it... and he missed... the Quaffle rolled off of his back into the goal...
"D'OH!" screamed Harry, just realizing that Lavender had scored an "Own Goal."
"HA! AND IN THE VERY WORST PLAY PROBABLY IN HISTORY, LAVENDER SCORES AN 'OWN GOAL!' That's just rich!"
"Darn!" said Harry as Lavender, blushing, took the Quaffle out again. This time, she made sure that Pavarti got the Quaffle. Pavarti threw it to Hermione, and Hermione flew down the field, dodging a chaser.
"Nice one!" shouted Harry.
And then Hermione dropped the Quaffle out of nowhere.
Unable to watch any more of this, Harry decided to search for the snitch. He flew over the whole field, his eyes darting around, searching.
The Ravenclaw seeker was also doing the same, and Harry thought that he saw him dive-
Harry dived too, wondering if the snitch was even there-
And that's when the Bludger hit him directly in the stomach.
"OOF!" grunted Harry.
"Sorry!" shouted Tyrone.
"That's okay..." grumbled Harry.
"I was aiming for your head!"
"WHAAT!?" screamed Harry.
"What? I'm not supposed to hit Bludgers to my teammates?"
"NO, AWAY FROM THEM!" screamed Harry.
"Sorry..." said Tyrone, embarrassed.
"Whatever." Said Harry. He looked at the Ravenclaw seeker- he was looking at Harry, staying still in midair. Obviously, he had been feinting.
"Curses!" cursed Harry, heading off in another direction.
And that's when the Bludger hit him directly in the stomach.
"Sorry!" shouted Raymond.
***
"And... with Gryffindor down, what is it? 60-0, with absolutely NONE of those goals earned, we all know who the cup's going to!"
This was met with boos from the crowd.
"Yes..." said Malfoy with a sneer. "And... oh no, what's this... Lavender with the Quaffle, speeding down the pitch, passes to Hermione- what- why didn't they lose the Quaffle yet!?"
Harry turned at this. It was true, Hermione was streaking down the pitch- no one seemed to be able to stop her- in fact; no one seemed to want to stop her-
And then Harry realized what was going on.
"Hermione... NOOOO!" screamed Harry, but Hermione had already heaved the Quaffle- towards her own goal!
"OWN GOAL, AGAIN!" screamed Malfoy. "AND RAVENCLAW GOES UP 70-NIL!"
"TIMEOUT!" screamed Harry. Harry got his team together.
"Sorry, Harry," said Hermione, blushing scarlet, "but we're doing our best!"
"Yeah!" agreed the rest of the team.
"I know... but it's not enough. So..." Harry reached into his pocket. "Plan C!"
Harry brought a bottle of pills out of his pocket.
"Oh no..." said Neville, worried, "Is that..."
"Aspirin? Yes." Harry took one of the aspirin, and then reached into his other pocket.
"Plan D!"
He brought out another bottle of pills.
"Oh, those are just magical enhancers."
"Yes!" said Harry, handing a pill to everyone in turn. "Eat these! And, for the next hour, you will be the best Quidditch players ever!"
"Whoa!" said everyone at once. Even Harry, for some strange reason.
"But Harry... the penalties..." said Hermione.
"Just shut up and take your pills!" responded Harry.
Hermione was obliged to do just so.
***
"And the Gryffindors take out the Quaffle, and- what's this!? Lavender with a blazing pass to Pavarti- to Hermione, back to Pavarti- back to Herm- to Lave- to P- whoa, HERMIONE SCORES!?"
The whole crowd stayed still, not daring to make a sound for a whole second, and then erupted into cheers.
"After that fluke, the Ravenclaws take it- OW, a Bludger sent to chaser- whaa!? Hermione AGAIN, BEHIND THE BACK pass to Pavarti, PAVARTI SCORES!?"
The crowd cheered again.
***
Harry, now extremely proud, began his search for the snitch again, amid huge cheers from another goal just scored. Since he was all advanced, it didn't take long at all. Finding it hiding behind a goal post, he dived.
Chasing it down with ease, he smiled, knowing the game was won.
Harry reached out his hand, gave a "V" sign for victory, and caught
the snitch!
"NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" screamed Malfoy, as the crowd roared. Harry pulled out of his dive, his hand up in the air. They had did it- they had won- he was happier than he had ever been-
"STOP!" screeched Malfoy, who had mounted his broom, and was flying out onto the field.
"Where'd you get your broom?" asked Harry, but Malfoy wasn't listening.
"Madam Hooch, Potter and his team were CHEATING!!!"
The whole crowd gasped.
"How so?" asked Hooch, startled.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN!? HE'S ABOUT FIVE INCHES TALLER, AND HAS BUFF BEYOND BELIEF!"
"Oops..." said Harry sheepishly, looking at his equally buff teammates. "I kinda forgot that side-effect of the pills..."
His team looked at him in disbelief.
"WELL THEN..." screeched Madam Hooch, "RAVENCLAW WINS!!!"
Harry felt his heart fall as the crowd cheered, the Ravenclaw team was hugging each other, the world must surely be over, for him to feel this bad-
Wait a second...
"MADAM HOOCH! THE RAVENCLAWS WERE CHEATING!"
Madam Hooch turned around, startled again, as the whole crowd gasped again.
"Look at them!"
Madam Hooch stared at the Ravenclaw seeker.
"He does look familiar..."
"Maybe... BECAUSE HE'S FAMOUS PROFESSIONAL SEEKER TUSK BENNINGS!?!"
"That's his name? OH, I see!"
"YES! RAVENCLAW REPLACED THEIR WHOLE TEAM WITH PROFESSIONAL QUIDDITCH PLAYERS!"
"What!?" Madam Hooch looked closely at each and every player. They WERE professional players! Funny how no one noticed this before...
"FINE, THEN! SINCE BOTH TEAMS CHEATED... NO ONE WINS!" Madam Hooch seized the Quidditch cup, and then moon-walked off of the pitch.
Both teams looked at each other uncertainly.
"Wow." They all said.
***
Well, a kind of disappointing ending, but funny nonetheless. I guess. But who am I to talk!? You review! It keeps me alive!
** HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!